“How many years ago were these taken?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m not sure. Ages.” She waved aside the question with her hand and instead, she pointed to a large photo that took up a whole page. “This is one of the six girls. We were visiting the seaside, that was. Those swimsuits, look at them. They don’t make them like that anymore.” She continued to flip through the pages. “Ah, here is one of Doc. I believe he was four or five, in school uniform there. As soon as Mother could, she shipped him off to boarding school and fired the nannies. Until holidays, that is. He’d be back for holiday, and to make up for his absence, he wreaked havoc throughout the house. One of my sisters stayed away on holidays because she didn’t want to deal with the tension in the house at that time.”
The housekeeper brought in a tray of tea and laid it on the table. One by one she poured the officers a cup, asking each one about the milk and sugar.
“This is one of Doc deer stalking. Of course, that day all he brought home was a pheasant. He was really good with deer. I think it was the only thing my father liked about Doc—that he came home with meat. My father eventually bought him a few shotguns and gave him a Land Rover. I don’t know how long Doc had that vehicle but, it’s not here so I assume he kept it.”
Theo leaned in closer to have a look. Doc stood on the banks of a marsh land, holding a large bird in one hand and a large gun in the other. He stood with an older man. Could it be his father? Theo placed his finger on the man in the photograph.
“Oh, that’s my uncle, Earnest,” she explained. “Father of my cousin Earnest. Doc really loved my uncle. He worked for the government, you know. I don’t know which branch.”
“Your brother worked for the government?” asked Dorland.
“No my uncle. I don’t know much about him but I remember Doc used to look forward to his visits. My uncle could tell stories, some crazy stories. I’m not sure any were true. Doc had a code, or so he says. He would place square children’s blocks in the window before Uncle Earnest would arrive. One time to spite him, I pushed his blocks off the window sill. Doc got so mad he threw a metal ornament at my head.”
She pointed to a scar on her forehead.
“I know this doesn’t help with the investigation, but, as much as he drove me insane when he was younger, I always felt he was misunderstood. That he wasn’t given the chance. He never received the love he should have, that he was entitled to. I really do hope you catch whoever murdered him.”
“We will do our best. Perhaps you can give us the names and numbers of your sisters in London. We would like them to come in and give a formal identification and perhaps they have had contact with Doc, you never know. Also, do you think any of your staff will have remembered Doc? Are any still with you?”
She shook her head. “Sadly no. We had to let a lot of staff go, so we are down to six. No one has been with us longer than . . .” She counted on four fingers, “twelve years. They wouldn’t know Doc.” She rose. “Now, let me get you those names.”
She went to a desk in the corner of the library and pulled out a leather book. “We should be closer, my sisters and I, but you know how it is. Eventually you lose contact. They marry, have children, and move on with their lives.”
Dorland rose from his seat and again started making his way around the room, examining all the books on the shelves and the art on the walls.
“Is that your mother?” Dorland asked.
“That is.”
The portrait of Mrs. Tipring covered a large panel on the wall. She was stunning and vibrant in a white evening gown. A large red flower sat neatly in her hair above her right ear. What a creature she must have been in person.
“The gown she wore there still hangs in her wardrobe. Doc never tore that one to shreds.”
A short while later, after finishing tea, the officers were headed back on their long trek to London.
“So, what do you think?” Theo asked his partner when they had left the house.
“They’re an odd family. But I suppose the rich are often that way.” Dorland pulled down his visor and checked his teeth. “You’d never suspect from examining his flat that he’d ever come from that family. I wonder if he inherited any money from his parents?”
“I guess his solicitor will be able to tell us that. However, from the way his father took the news of his son’s death, I don’t think there was any love lost between the two. Do you think his sisters had anything to do with his death?” Theo asked.
“Why now? The statement from the nurse says that he had no contact with anyone. His sister confirms she never talked to him in years. Why would they kill him now?”
“Well, it looked like the nannies were the ones who spent time with Doc and they didn’t treat him well either. Could one of the nannies have become his nurse later on in life and have killed him?”
“Why would they do that?”
“More likely, he would have killed them.”
“I just don’t see a motive anywhere.” Dorland slammed the visor against the top of the car roof.
“The only reason I can see is if on his father’s death, money goes to him. Again, we will have to ask the solicitor for that information. Most likely it goes to the cousin. I wonder if he had any contact with Doc?”
“Tomorrow, first thing, we should visit the solicitor. I hope the rest of our team or forensics have found something.”
Chapter Eleven
Five minutes before five, a knock sounded at the door and Sophia rose to answer it. Through the peephole, she saw a tall, blond woman nervously inhaling a cigarette while rocking back and forth on her heels. While almost sure the woman was here to replace her, she couldn’t be certain. What if it was a neighbor? Placing the chain on the door, Sophia opened it a crack.
“Yes?”
“Let me in,” the woman replied, pushing on the door. The chain held it in place.
“Who are you?” Sophia asked, stepping back; the woman reeked of smoke.
“Who are you?”
This wasn’t going well.
“Who sent you?” Sophia asked.
The woman placed her hands on her hips and replied, “Foxton.”
“All right.” Sophia closed the door and released the chain. The woman dropped her cigarette on the hall carpet and stomped down on it with the sole of her high heel boot. Then, she helped Sophia open the door again with a stronger than necessary push.
“What are you doing? Why didn’t you let me in? Sheesh. I shouldn’t have to stand in that rat infested hall.”
“I’m sorry. I’m new at this.”
“Clearly.”
“Well, anyway, I’m Evans, Sophia Evans.” Sophia held out her hand.
“Carla Rose.” Carla didn’t shake. Instead, she went toward the kitchen.
Sophia followed her and watched as Carla poured herself a cup of coffee. Out of her handbag, Carla produced a bottle of cough mixture, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig.
She looked at Sophia. “I feel a cold coming on,” she said. Next, she fished around her bag for her pack of fags, pulled a lighter from her draw-string jacket, and lit up another.
“We can’t open the windows in here.”
Crystal came into the kitchen.
“This is Crystal Priestly.”
Carla ignored her and pushed past them into the living room. Crystal looked at Sophia curiously.
“What’s with her?” she signed. “Should she be smoking in here?”
Sophia shrugged.
“When did we get all this new equipment? This is nice stuff. Look at these monitors, they’re so thin now.” She pressed a few random keys on the keyboard.
“They belong to us.” Sophia quickly locked her computer. “It’s very new and very expensive. It’ll have to stay here tonight but you won’t be able to access it.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” Sophia said slowly and deliberately, “they’re ours and unrelated to the case you’re working on.”